Lila Voss woke with a scream stuck in her throat. Her eyes snapped open, staring at a white ceiling, a sharp beep cutting through her haze. A hospital bed creaked under her, and pain throbbed in her ribs. Memories slammed into her—Marco’s cold eyes, Tessa’s cruel laugh, the cliff’s edge rushing up as she fell. Her fiancé had betrayed her, pushed her to die. But she was alive. Her hands shook, clutching the thin blanket. A nurse’s voice faded in, saying she’d been found on the rocks, barely breathing. Lila’s heart raced. How was she here?

She turned her head, seeing a calendar on the wall. The date hit her like a punch: the day before her wedding. Yesterday, she’d been picking flowers, dreaming of Marco’s vows. Last night, Tessa, her best friend, had smirked, admitting she’d stolen him. Marco, fearing Lila knew his smuggling secrets, had shoved her off the cliffside mansion’s edge. Yet here she was, given a second chance. Rage burned through her fear. She wouldn’t be the perfect bride again. She’d destroy him.

Lila yanked out the IV, ignoring the sting. Her legs wobbled as she stood, hospital gown flapping. She didn’t care. Marco thought she was dead. Tessa thought she’d won. They were wrong. Lila grabbed her phone from a plastic bag of her things—cracked but working. She scrolled through Marco’s texts, her stomach twisting at his fake I love yous. Then she saw a name: Damon Creed, his rival, a mafia kingpin who hated him. Her lips curled. Damon was her way out.

She slipped into jeans and a hoodie from the bag, sneaking past nurses. The hospital’s cold halls smelled of bleach, but her mind was on fire. She took a cab to her bridal suite, heart pounding. The room was a mess of white lace and roses, mocking her old dreams. Her wedding dress hung on a mannequin, sparkling like a lie. Lila grabbed it, fingers digging into the fabric. She screamed, tearing it apart. Silk ripped, beads scattered, and she laughed, tears streaming. No more pretending. No more Marco.

Lila sank to the floor, clutching the shredded gown. Her phone buzzed—Marco: Ready for tomorrow, babe? She wanted to smash it, but she typed, Can’t wait, buying time. She pulled up Damon’s number, saved from a deal Marco had cursed about. Her thumb hovered, then pressed call. A deep voice answered, smooth and sharp. “Who’s this?”

“Lila Voss,” she said, voice steady despite her shaking hands. “I need to see you. Now.”

A low laugh. “Marco’s bride? This better be good.” He gave her an address—a penthouse downtown. Lila hung up, wiping her face. She shoved the torn dress into a trash bag, grabbed her keys, and ran out. Crestfall City’s streets were alive with honks and neon, but she felt like a ghost, driven by one thought: make Marco pay.

The cab dropped her at a glass tower, its lights cutting the night. A guard eyed her hoodie but let her up. The elevator hummed, her reflection showing a pale, fierce face. She didn’t recognize herself. Good. The doors opened to a sleek penthouse, all black leather and city views. Damon Creed stood by a bar, pouring whiskey. He was tall, sharp-jawed, in a tailored suit, his dark hair messy like he’d just run a hand through it. His eyes, green and piercing, locked on her, and her stomach flipped—not just from fear.

“You’re not what I expected,” Damon said, smirking. He nodded at her hoodie. “Where’s the white dress?”

Lila dropped the trash bag, the torn gown spilling out. “Here’s what’s left of it.” Her voice was hard. “I’m done with Marco. Help me ruin him, and I’ll give you his empire.”

Damon’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer, glass in hand, studying her like a puzzle. “Bold move, Voss. Marco’s got docks, crews, millions. You think you can hand me that?”

“I know I can,” Lila said, chin up. “He trusts me. Or he did. I’ll get you his secrets—deals, routes, names. But you take him down.”

Damon set his glass down, leaning in. His cologne hit her, spicy and warm, and her heart skipped. “I like your fire,” he said, voice low. “But if you’re in, you’re mine. My crew, my rules. All of you—loyalty, body, soul.” His grin was dangerous, teasing, but his eyes meant business.

Lila swallowed, her skin tingling. She didn’t trust him, but she needed him. Marco’s face flashed in her mind—his hands pushing her, the ocean below. She stuck out her hand. “Deal.”

Damon’s grip was firm, his thumb brushing her wrist, sending a shiver through her. “Welcome to the game,” he said. “Start tonight. Marco’s at The Black Orchid club. Spy on him. Find me something I can use.”

“Tonight?” Lila’s voice cracked. “I just got out of a hospital!”

Damon laughed, stepping back. “You want revenge, you move fast. Wear something less… dead.” He nodded at her hoodie, tossing her a credit card. “Buy a dress. Don’t screw this up.”

Lila’s cheeks burned, but she pocketed the card. “I won’t.” She turned to leave, then paused. “Why help me? You don’t know me.”

Damon picked up his glass, eyes glinting. “Marco’s been a thorn in my side too long. And you?” He sipped, smiling. “You’re interesting.”

Her stomach flipped again, but she pushed it down. This wasn’t about Damon’s charm. It was about Marco’s blood. She grabbed the trash bag and walked out, the elevator doors closing behind her. In the cab, she texted Vera Monroe, a private investigator she’d met through a friend. Find dirt on Marco Voss. Start now. Vera replied: On it. Stay safe.

Lila leaned back, heart pounding. Crestfall’s lights blurred outside, a city of secrets and knives. She thought of Tessa’s smirk, Marco’s shove, the cold waves below the cliff. Her hands clenched. She wasn’t that Lila anymore, the one who trusted, who loved. She was a storm now, and Marco would feel it.

At her apartment, she dropped the bag, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were hard, her jaw set. She’d buy a dress, walk into that club, and start the war. Damon’s words echoed—loyalty, body, soul. She didn’t trust his grin, his eyes, or the way her heart raced near him. But she trusted her rage. It would carry her through Crestfall’s underworld, past Marco’s lies, to the end of his empire.

She grabbed her purse, ready to shop, to fight, to win. The diner across the street glowed, a place she’d meet Vera later. For now, she had a club to crash, a fiancé to bury, and a deal with a devil named Damon. Lila Voss was back, and this time, she’d write her own ending.